You know, it's the one that goes, "If your front porch falls down and more than six dogs are injured, you might be a redneck."
Well, we don't have many rednecks in Hawaii. But we do have mokes. The question is, what exactly is a moke, and, more importantly, are you one?
First of all, a moke is not a racial distinction. If you grew up here, you probably meet mokes of every extraction, including haole. It's a state of mind. But just to help you figure out if you are a moke, here's a checklist (with apologies to Mr. Foxworthy.)
If you have a tendency to use the past tense of verbs inappropriately, as in, "Hey, haole, you like me broke your face?" you could be a moke.
If you consider a balanced breakfast a can of Budweiser AND a cigarette, you could be a moke.
If you consider marijuana a vegetable, you just might be a moke.
If your '73 Datsun has $400 wheels but the body is held together by primer paint, you could be a moke.
If cockroaches scamper to the door to greet you when you come home, you might be a moke.
If you know all the cockroaches by name, you could be a moke.
If you can't drive without hanging your left arm so far out the car window your knuckles drag on the pavement, you may be a moke.
If you think a "Push Up Bra" is a guy who lifts you up to the windows of houses you break into, then you might be a moke.
If you think "Wonder Bra" is the name of a local super hero, you might be a moke.
If you consider the "middle comb" a still-viable hair style, you could be a moke.
If you attended your friend's cousin's sister's aunty's 74th birthday party just so you could walk off with a better pair of zories, you just could be a moke.
If you dropped out of high school after six years and only reaching the sophomore class, you could be a moke.
n If you can relate details of your latest burglary arrest with two scoops of rice in your mouth and while slugging back a wine cooler, you could be a moke.
If they have a wing named after you at the Youth Correctional Center, you might be a moke.
If you've got teeth marks on each side of your face as a result of trying to kiss your pit bull Arnold on the lips, you could be a moke.
If you've ever actually tried to repeat any of Bu La'ia's stunts, such as drinking chewing tobacco spit, you could be a moke.
If you've ever showed up at a BYOB party with a can of gold spray paint and a Vicks inhaler, you could be a moke.
If your longest relationship with a female was 17 minutes, you could be a moke.
If the chick turned out to be your cousin Fred from Molokai, you could be a moke.
If you had to pay for it, you could be a moke.
If you consider geckos a valuable source of protein, you could be a moke.
If you've ever shoplifted a stack of those give-away real estate sales guides from a supermarket, you could be a moke.
If you were busted taking the free real estate guides, you might be a moke.
If you actually were prosecuted for stealing the guides, you might be a moke.
If you were assigned a public defender so inept that you ended up back in your own wing of the Youth Detention Center, there's no question about it. You are a moke.
Oh, yeah, if you read this column all the way through, you aren't a moke, so don't bother calling me to complain.
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